


Prayer 6

by mmouse15



Series: Prayer of St. Francis [6]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/pseuds/mmouse15
Summary: In December 2008, the Livejournal community ProwlxJazz held a challenge based off the first six lines of the prayer of St. Francis. This is the sixth line, sadness/joy.





	Prayer 6

Title: St. Francis Prayer 6  
By: mmouse15  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: implied intimacy, slash

 

Spike hurried into the medbay. Bumblebee had been released, but Spike wanted to know how Jazz was doing. As he entered, he noticed that there were no occupied tables other than Jazz's, and Prowl was still next to Jazz with a stack of datapads on a small table next to him. He was absorbed in the pad in his hand, and Spike was able to get fairly close before Prowl noticed him.  
"Spike. Have you come to see how the patient is doing?"  
"Yes, if you don't mind."  
"Why would I mind?"  
"Um, I don't know?"  
"Hm. Well, where would you like to be?"  
Spike looked around. "Can I be up with Jazz?"  
"Certainly." Prowl lifted him and waited while Spike made himself comfortable while not touching Jazz at all. "Have you enjoyed the stories you've been hearing?"  
Spike began to stammer, "Uh…well…I mean…I'm sorry!"  
Prowl waved off his apology. "It's fine. It's not like I want to hide my relationship with Jazz."  
"Well yeah, I suppose. I just never knew, 'cause I never saw any signs of it."  
"Why would you?"  
Spike shrugged, drawing random doodles with his finger on the shining surface of the table upon which he sat. "Most people in a relationship give off certain…I dunno…vibes around the person they're interested in. You and Jazz don't give off those vibes."  
Prowl chuckled. "We do, but it's not on a level you can read. Humans say a lot with their bodies that are unspoken. For us, it's spark communication and any other Cybertronian would know that Jazz and I were together simply by the communications we exchange."  
"Oh." Spike thought about that.  
"You are a young species and have not ventured beyond your own solar system, so you judge us by your own standards. They do not fit."  
"Yeah, okay, I guess I get that, but if we can't judge your relationship by our standards, how are we supposed to judge it?"  
Prowl leaned forward slightly to establish eye-to-optic contact. "You are not supposed to judge it at all. It simply is and requires no judgment from you or from anyone else. Our relationship makes me happy, makes Jazz happy, fulfills us and makes us content with what we have together. I have a companion in my life that I know will be with me until the end of our days, and we can communicate on a level unimaginable to you. "  
Spike raised his hands in surrender. "Right, right, I hear you. Sorry, Prowl."  
"Apology accepted."  
A long silence followed. Spike finally broke it. "So, if I might try again, how would I tell if there's another bonded couple, since I've discovered more in the past couple of days than I ever thought there would be."  
"Ah. Well. You use your eyes and your brain. Take Ratchet and Wheeljack. 'Jack really has no place in the medbay, does he? Unless we need every medically trained 'bot after a battle, 'Jack should be in his lab and not in the medbay, but he's here all the time. That would be a good way. Another example would be Red Alert and Inferno. Why does Inferno spend so much time in the security room when he's search-and-rescue or a fighter? He does it because that's where Red Alert spends most of his time, and Inferno wants to be around Red where and when he can."  
"Oh. But you and Jazz are supposed to work together, so how would I tell with you?"  
"Jazz has his own office." Prowl stated.  
"He does?!"   
"Yes. He does not need to work on the spare desk in my office, but he does."  
Spike thought about the new information he'd gotten for a long time while Prowl worked his way through a few more datapads. The quiet was interrupted by Windcharger coming in to collect the datapads Prowl was finished with and drop off a new batch.  
"Thank you Windcharger." Prowl went through the new datapads and re-prioritized the entire stack.  
"You're welcome Prowl," with a jaunty wave, Windcharger left just as Wheeljack came in.  
"Hey, Spike! Is this your new home on the Ark?" Wheeljack came over to them and checked the readouts on the machines connected to Jazz.  
"No, not really." Spike replied.  
"You've been spending a great deal of your time recently in here, so I did feel it was a valid question." 'Jack peered down at weld on Jazz's abdomen as he mentioned this. "Well, Prowl, he should be coming out of stasis any time. Looks like Ratchet finally got the secondary pump placed and working."  
"It was a fried junction board that was causing them to fail." Prowl told him.  
"Ah. That does make sense."  
"Where's Ratchet?" Spike wanted to know.  
"Taking a well-deserved rest. First Aid is more than capable of watching over the medbay, and Ratchet needs his rest."  
"And so why are you here?" came the question.  
"To check on Jazz on my way to get energon. Because if I don't, he'll get out of that berth and come in here to see for himself and then something else will require his attention and I will not get him back to the berth until another three cycles have passed."  
Prowl was laughing quietly to himself. "True. You do know him well, Wheeljack."  
"Hm. After all this time, I should." Wheeljack straightened, waved to First Aid, who returned the greeting, and exited the medbay.  
"So, I guess I'm kind of stupid," Spike started, "but what does Jazz have that no one else does?"  
Prowl sat back and thought, then said, "Well, Jazz balances me. He's free-spirited where I am regulated. He is fun in comparison to my seriousness. He breaks rules and I make them. He disregards protocol, whereas my existence seems confined by it. Those are surficial. We balance each other on deeper levels. He is light and laughter to my security and we each have a safe place within the other that exists nowhere else in the universe. Every time I feel him, he's home to me and I am home to him. I can be happy anywhere as long as he's happy. Does that make sense?"  
"Yeah, I suppose it does. Sounds like the ultimate true mate thing that all the girls want." Spike grumbled a bit.  
Prowl chuckled. "But the depth of communication that we have is not possible at your current level of evolution and is therefore not a logical desire."  
"I suppose so." Spike became aware of a vibration in the table beneath him. At the same time, he watched as a look of pure joy crossed Prowl's face, and he thought that he would never again mistake Prowl's stoicism for a lack of feeling.  
"Hello, Jazz," purred the tactician, setting his datapads aside and rising to lean his head against his mate's. Spike smiled to see the red chevron he was so familiar with upside down and framing the visor that he marked as Jazz's signature look.  
"Hey, Prowl," came the husky growl as the visor lit up. Spike felt he was intruding upon a most personal moment and he was not alone in that assessment. He felt a nudge and looked up into the kindly optics of First Aid, offering his hand to Spike as an assist. Spike climbed on as quietly as possible, thanking First Aid once his feet were on the floor. He waved good-bye to the Protectobot, giving one last look to the black-and-white mechs that seemed an extension of each other.


End file.
